


Work Out

by grimeysociety



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fat Shaming, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, Tumblr Prompt, Wall Sex, WinterShock - Freeform, Yoga
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-24 01:33:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19713610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grimeysociety/pseuds/grimeysociety
Summary: Darcy joins Bucky on the yoga mat. Turns out Bucky is a way more devious than he lets on, not that Darcy's complaining.





	Work Out

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zephrbabe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zephrbabe/gifts), [EmSonderling](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmSonderling/gifts).



> A couple months back I was sent a couple interesting things. First of all, zephrbabe sent me the simple message of "bucky barnes in leggings", to [which I replied](https://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/post/184955707863/bucky-barnes-in-leggings) with a happy, clapping Snow White .gif. Y'know. I was also sent the adorable sexy illustrations by [GlacierClear on Twitter](https://twitter.com/glacier_clear/status/1128573409343021057), because they reminded the kind sender of Wintershock. I finally got around to writing this smut. Enjoy!

“Jane,” Darcy whines.

This happens every so often. It’ll be in the middle of Darcy’s data entry jobs or something else that means sitting at her desk for hours of her day. She gets into a near-vegetative state and she’ll suddenly come out of it, as if seeing herself for the first time.

She grabs at her belly and lets out another whine, and Jane finally turns her head to see what the problem is. Darcy pouts.

“I’m getting huge. What the fuck? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You’re not fat,” Jane says. It’s automatic.

Darcy knows she’s not fat. But she’s getting there. She can feel how soft her tummy is, how her leggings cut into her midsection and hips. She looks around her desk, picking up an empty package of Reese’s Pieces.

“No more of these, okay?” she says, and Jane’s eyebrows hike. “And no more Pop Tarts, or Taco Bell –”

“But we love Taco Bell,” Jane says, and Darcy makes a helpless sound.

“ _Come on_ , Jane. I can’t be like you and have the metabolism of an arctic fox. What the fuck.”

It’s kind of unfair that Jane is thirty-five and less than a hundred pounds. Darcy grabs at her stomach, sighing.

“Darcy, you’re beautiful,” Jane says, and Darcy rolls her eyes.

“I’m chunky.”

“No. Just – _soft_. Cuddly.”

“Oh, God. You sound like my mom in middle school on picture day. I was like, the spokes girl for Dairy Queen then. And McDonald’s. And Pizza Hut. And Little Debbie. Fuck.”

Darcy throws the empty package away, shaking her head. She’ll stop the snacking. She’ll work out. She just needs to find time to do that. Maybe she’ll take the stairs more.

-

Darcy hates salad. Why the fuck would someone actively choose to eat kale? Because they hated themselves? Fuck that shit. No fucking thank you.

-

Darcy finally manages to find time to go to the gym, and it’s around midnight three days after she’s banned herself from candy and fast food.

It’s been fucking gruelling, trying to not give in. She has a Starbucks Frappuccino with extra cream one afternoon because she’s pretty sure she has an actual problem with sugar. Jane usually grumbles about the fact that Darcy has very healthy teeth when she claims she can’t even carry a pack of Skittles in her pocket without her jaw breaking off.

“Guys like something to grab,” Jane adds, and Darcy frowns.

When was the last time she even went on a date? She’s not doing any of this because she wants male attention. People frequently talk at her chest, not at her face. She’s pretty sure those special op guys upstairs talk about her because they always go quiet when she’s in the room.

Jane makes a face. “That’s gross, I’m sorry I said that.”

Darcy doesn’t mind. She knows Jane just wants her to be happy, and less likely to kick an intern off the roof because she’s hangry.

Darcy walks into the gym hoping for it to be empty but there’s Bucky Barnes in there, sitting on one of the benches with two massive dumbbells in each hand, huffing.

Darcy puts in her earphones and takes one of the treadmills. It starts off okay, but that’s because she’s on a low setting. She needs to move enough for it to be an effort or it won’t count as much exercise. Darcy’s no fool – she knows it’s about calories in, calories out. It’s easier said than done, though, obviously.

Darcy puts on Spice Girls and tries being in her own world, but she actually hates that Bucky is there. Every time she sees him she feels like she should leave. He reminds her of the guys in her high school. She knows he’s never done anything to warrant the comparison because all those assholes ever did was stare at her and treat her like a freak just for existing in their space. She fucked a few of those guys, too, but it was weird. She was aware that they were thinking about how different she was to the other girls in their school – shapely and unapologetic. She wishes she could still channel that attitude, that _I’ll take a dozen Krispy Kremes and you can go fuck yourself_ kind of attitude.

Bucky’s head turns and his long hair’s in his face, his lips parted. His skin shines with sweat and Darcy nearly loses her footing as she spies him in the massive mirrors on the walls. She blushes and increases her speed to keep her mind on the prize.

She runs until she’s weak, which is only ten minutes. It’s a woeful effort, but at least she’s started. She hops of the machine, panting and bent at the waist, feeling like all her pores have opened and she feels damp with sweat all over. She wipes her forehead and sees Bucky pick up a rolled up yoga mat and Darcy blinks a couple times.

She thinks about looking behind her, like he must be looking at some other girl. She doesn’t, just ducks her gaze to the rolled up mat.

“You wanna – you wanna join me?”

Darcy’s eyes snap to his and she narrows them, assessing. He has to be making fun of her, like, _ohh, I caught you staring._

“No, thanks,” she mutters, wiping her sweaty upper lip. “I hate yoga.”

She snaps the waistband of her leggings and grabs her towel and water bottle, stalking off to the showers. She goes back to her room straight after, collapsing on her bed.

-

“Maybe it’s you finding your adult shape,” Jane suggests, when Darcy bitches yet again about how much she misses PB and J on white bread.

“Oh, my natural shape is a marshmallow? Nice,” Darcy retorts.

-

She’s pretty sure Bucky watches her when she runs. He must find it amusing, seeing the short, fat girl from the labs sweat it out like a little piglet each night.

Darcy feels herself tense every time he interacts with her. It’s usually when she’s done running, and she’s steaming all over the place, pink and panting.

One Friday, Darcy gets a piece of cheesecake with whipped cream. Jane doesn’t say a word about it, but she can see a couple girls from Accounting eating tiny salads, eyeing Darcy’s choice. It makes Darcy scoff the rest of it, hardly bothering to chew. Jane’s eyes widen but Darcy doesn’t explain herself. She stalks off when she’s done, hoping those Accounting girls get salmonella.

She knows she’s lost a few pounds. She knows she’s trying. She just hates feeling like a blob, because for the most part, the world makes her apologize for it all the time.

-

She forgoes a shirt that night, wearing her two pairs of sports bras with her matching leggings because she doesn’t want to care anymore. This is her size, and she can’t pretend any other way. Her hair needs washing but she douses it in dry shampoo and ties it in a high ponytail, the baby hairs sticking up on her crown, by her ears and on the nape of her neck.

She looks kind of messy but – why not? It’s a Friday night and she’s spent a week doing this on top of all the work she does for Jane. She’s busy. She doesn’t have to give reasons or excuses. Darcy feels especially grumpy when she sees Bucky lifting some weights in one corner when she walks in.

He’s very pretty. Goddamn it.

She takes the usual machine and starts her run. She pushes further, uses her frustration as a motivation. She listens to The Chemical Brothers super loud, pushing herself until she legs feel like jelly, like her lungs are burning out. She slams the emergency stop button, hopping off and panting. She whimpers, pulling her earphones out and wiping away sweat with her hands. She takes in huge gulps of air, feeling lightheaded. She sees Bucky standing behind her, his eyes snapping up from her ass.

Oh. Okay.

She narrows her eyes. He lifts one hand to rub the back of his head. Tonight he’s got his hair tied back and she can see his face better. Have his eyes always been that blue? He’s wearing a tank top and a pair of leggings, tight enough to leave little to the imagination.

He gestures with his thumb, his other hand on his hip. Darcy quirks an eyebrow.

“Wanna join me on the mats?” he asks.

Darcy’s still panting, her sweat barely drying on her skin. She’s probably blotchy, frizzy and messed up. The crease deepens between her brows.

“You know I hate yoga,” she replies.

“I promise it’ll be fun.”

His flesh hand moves from his hip for a split second, and Darcy swears she sees him readjust himself, squeezing his crotch.

Men do that all the time. They’re so obvious, too, and they probably don’t realize that people notice them grabbing at themselves all the time. He doesn’t seem embarrassed at all, like it’s an automatic thing he doesn’t think about.

Darcy concedes. Fine. It’s Friday, and it wouldn’t hurt, would it? Unless this is just him making fun of her. He seems to be genuine. She takes a step away from her treadmill and he turns his back.

His ass is spectacular. Round and the closest thing to perfect Darcy thinks she’ll ever see in-person. It gives a little jiggle as he walks, and Darcy’s face flushes. Well, if he got to look at her butt, why can’t she do the same to him?

“Yoga’s good for stretches after workouts,” he says.

He’s quiet. Darcy looks at the mat he has lain out and sees he’s not wearing his shoes. She toes off her own sneakers. Her socks need replacing. The ankle on one of them got stretched too much in the wash and the material sags, and she’s pretty sure the other one is getting a hole in the sole.

Darcy folds her arms over her stomach, feeling self-conscious. There’s a hint of a smirk on his face, and she can hear it in his voice.

“I don’t… know much about yoga,” she admits. It’s not that appealing to her. She’s not that flexible, and having someone see her bent over and straining isn’t either.

He sits and she does the same, facing him. He crosses his legs.

“Finding center,” he says, and Darcy nods.

It doesn’t seem that complicated. She sits up straighter, hands resting on her knees like Bucky’s are. She clears her throat and he gives a little smile.

“Am I supposed to feel relaxed?”

“It’s about groundin’ your body. A neutral base.”

“Okay,” she murmurs. “Then what?”

He chuckles. “Uh, we could try some poses.”

He scoots back, on his knees and Darcy extends her legs, waiting for him to tell her what to do. He moves up behind her and Darcy feels her blush intensify again and she licks her lips.

“So, hands on the mat, kneelin’,” he says, his voice soft. “On your knees and extend your arms.”

She feels it stretch out her back and she groans a little. It feels kind of nice, in a delicious burning kind of way. She’s surprised, sighing when she settles into the shape.

“It’s called Child’s Pose.”

Darcy makes a little humming sound. “It feels nice.”

She’s not lying. She’s sure she could fall asleep like this, and she rolls her shoulders a little.

“Wanna move up?”

“Okay.”

Darcy comes out of the pose, the world returning as she opens her eyes. She shifts a little, and almost jolts when she feels his metal hand brush her hip.

“Come up. And – and then you…”

His other hand, the flesh one, slips down her shoulder to the small of her back, pushing a little. Darcy’s heartbeat picks up again and she finally, _finally_ gets it –

This whole time he’s been trying to flirt with her, not tease her. Well, maybe tease her in a fun way that makes his pants tight.

She bends over, and he slots her into place, her ass resting against his crotch. She can feel the heat of him, and she bumps him, hard enough that a grunt escapes at the back of his throat. Its sound is almost imperceptible. Darcy smirks to herself, bumping him again. He grabs her hip with his other hand and pushes back into her and fuck if that doesn’t make her nipples instantly hard.

It’s been a while. She bites her lip.

“Move your legs back. So you make your rear a steeple. Downward dog.”

She obliges. He’s more devious than she could have ever predicted. Handsome and devilish. She wasn’t going to give in that easily.

After half a minute she unfurls out of the pose, standing up straight.

“What’s one we can do together?” she asks, and his eyebrows lift.

“I’ll show you.”

He sits on the floor and she does the same, and he leans back, nodding at his chest.

“You back to me. Rest your knees on my thighs.”

Darcy tries her best to keep her face blank but her cheeks burn all the same. She turns around, and he grabs her by the hips and lifts her with ease. Darcy’s hands scramble but they find his chest. One of his hands grabs at her stomach and Darcy tenses, looking down to see the soft, pale skin under his metal fingers. She shifts, biting back a groan as she feels her cunt pressing into the line of his cock, the material of their workout leggings feeling thinner than ever.

She can almost hear the smirk in his voice.

“Good?”

She makes a little sound, edging closer to a whine. He feels so good, and he’s getting harder by the second. She thinks about grabbing him but he presses a hand onto her lower spine and she tilts forward again.

“Child’s Pose,” he says. “Again.”

She nods dumbly, and she bends, moving off of him. He moves around as she squeezes her eyes shut. She swallows, and then she feels him press up against her again. She cranes her head, seeing he’s almost sitting on her back, his ass brushing her shoulder as his crotch hovers over her back.

He’s looking down at her butt, and she hears him swallow thickly, his fingers brushing the material of her leggings.

“That’s good,” he murmurs, acting like this is all normal, like he isn’t feeling her up on the mats at the gym, like Darcy isn’t squirming under him.

She thinks he’s going to squeeze her but his fingers slip down, tracing over the dips of her crotch and she sucks in a breath.

He rubs, and he’s almost but not quite inside her, pushing against her entrance. Darcy gasps again, hissing, “ _Shit_.”

Her hand reaches out and she grips his ankle, and he pets her, again and again. She circles her hips, biting back a moan when he edges towards her clit but never touches it. She whimpers, abandoning all dignity when his fingers work up and down.

“Bucky,” she pleads, but he doesn’t stop. If anything, it emboldens him. She bucks, trying to gain friction on her swollen clit. She’s practically panting and he still doesn’t stop, still doesn’t relieve her.

She mewls and he chuckles, but it isn’t cruel.

“Makin’ such pretty sounds.”

He presses down on her clit and Darcy moans, trying to back into him. She feels so tight, so desperate she might sob. His hand tightens on her hip and he keeps her still as he rubs her back and forth, his thumb still pressing against her entrance.

“So wet for me.”

“Fuck. I’m gonna – you’re gonna make me come,” Darcy gasps, and she tenses up.

He lets go of her hip and she bucks against him, using his hand. She buries her face in the mat and moans, her orgasm like a long, hard throb that makes her shudder.

She pants, twisting her head to look at him and he pets her again, making her shiver. He’s rubbing the wet patch on her leggings, and his crotch suddenly digs into her back.

“Let me up.”

He swings his leg over and sits down, Darcy flipping onto her back. She scrubs a hand over her face as she watches him lick his fingers, his eyes dark.

She only has a few seconds to recover before lands on top of her, catching her in a kiss. He pushes his tongue between her lips and she moans, a little overwhelmed by the heat of it, her brain still scrambled from the intense last several minutes.

He looks burdened with desire, his eyes roving her body when he draws back. Darcy licks her lips and he smiles down at her.

“You know, you could have asked me to get coffee with you,” she pants, and his hand comes up to grab her by her ponytail. Her eyes widen.

“You wanna get _coffee_ right now?” he asks, eyebrow lifting. He’s so cute, even when he’s being a sarcastic little shit.

“Just a suggestion. Propriety or whatever,” Darcy says. “Or you could fuck me.”

He kisses her again, their tongues tangling as his flesh hand pulls her hair, not quite hard enough for Darcy’s liking. His other hand grabs her tummy again and Darcy moves her mouth away, frowning.

“Don’t do that.”

“Why?” he asks, smiling. His face falls a little when Darcy’s frown intensifies.

“I know I’m chubby. You don’t have to make fun of me.”

“What?” he says, tilting his head. He glances down. “What are you talkin’ about?”

“Bucky, don’t,” she says.

Maybe she should call the whole thing off. She’s so embarrassed. She moves her hands off of his chest and tries to cover her stomach.

“You’re gorgeous.”

She shakes her head, and her eyes begin to sting. God.

His hands go to either side of her face.

“Darcy, you’re beautiful. I really like you, and – and I wanna make you feel good.”

Darcy stares at him because she can’t look away. His eyes don’t betray him. She can see he’s being serious. He kisses her, softer. He puts everything into it, and Darcy sighs. He kisses her face, down her jaw to her neck and Darcy’s hands grip his shoulders as he traces the skin of her collar bones and chest to meet the soft tops of her tits.

He gathers her in his lap, mouthing at her skin, murmuring and rocking into her.

“So soft. Fuck. So fuckin’ soft.”

Darcy feels her stomach flip and she bites her lip. She arches toward him when he licks at the peaks of her, seeking out a nipple.

No-one has ever walked in on them when she’s been on the treadmill for the last several days, but she doesn’t want to tempt fate. She squeezes his arms.

“Bucky – can we, can we move? Somewhere else?”

He pulls back, nodding. “Yeah, c’mere.”

He scoops her up and walks them out to the men’s bathroom and Darcy giggles, drawing him into another kiss as he lowers her on a bench in a shower stall. His hand fumbles for the lock and he joins her, laying his body against hers as he attacks her chest again.

He nips at her and Darcy hisses. He nudges down the cup of her bra and she shakes her head.

“There’s two of ‘em.”

“Two?” he repeats.

Darcy wriggles out of them, panting a little by the time she’s free and Bucky’s eyes widen at the sight of her.

“Fuck,” he groans, and he lunges at her, pulling at her nipple and teasing the other with his fingers. He tugs enough for Darcy to feel more heat pool between her legs and she moans.

He goes further down, mouthing at her soft tummy, hands caressing her sides. He hooks his thumbs under the waistline of her leggings and pulls, shoving down the material and exposing her cunt to the cool air. Darcy shivers.

He licks his lips when he pushes her legs apart with his shoulders, fingers brushing her soaked folds.

“Messy girl.”

Darcy nods, whimpering. He keeps his eyes glued to hers as he licks up into her, nudging her clit with his nose. He ignores it like before, making her desperate with each passing stroke of his tongue flat against her.

She hisses, her fingers digging into his shoulders.

“Fuck. Bucky. _Bucky_.”

He groans, too, seeming to enjoy it as much as her. He flicks his tongue on her clit and Darcy whines, her thighs starting to shake. Her hands trail up to his hair and she tugs, shoving herself against him. He doesn’t let up, keeps lapping at her, his hands going to grip her tits, pushing them up and around.

It’s almost too much, and Darcy bites her lip so hard she thinks she’ll cut it. He’s going to make her come _again_ , on this bench in the fucking men’s bathroom. What the _fuck_. She shudders, rubbing against him as she climaxes, ending it with a plaintive sob.

She closes her eyes, resting her head against the tile wall and she sees spots in the line of her vision. Bucky kisses her mound before pulling back.

Darcy’s face burns because his face is soaked. She feels a little sting and looks down, seeing she’s bright red and rubbed raw by his three day beard. He looks dazed but happy, wiping his face with his hand, a little haphazardly as Darcy drinks him in.

She’s shaking but moves toward him and he catches her, mouths slanting together. It’s filthy and it’s everything. Darcy feels him fumble and he pulls down his leggings, never dropping her. He manages to rip them off, standing naked with her in his arms, pressing her against the stall door.

“We’ll get coffee after this, okay, sugar?” he murmurs, and Darcy smiles at him, feeling giddy.

“Okay.”

He lets out a groan when he shoves into her. She feels slippery with sweat and arousal but he manages to hit that spot that makes her toes curl, her thighs wrapped around his waist.

He whispers praises, how good she feels, how wet and tight she is around him. It’s enough to make her blush, despite everything they’ve already done. With each roll of his hips he takes her to the hilt, his strokes precise.

“Go harder,” she whispers and he moans.

He’s like a metronome and they begin to moan together with each knock of their bodies. Darcy grinds her clit into him and he chuckles, breathless.

“Coffee and maybe we’ll get pancakes?”

She laughs. It’s only a little after midnight. “Sure. Breakfast. We’ll get an early breakfast.”

She squeezes him and he loses control, bucking into her, taking his pleasure from her. Darcy loves it, especially his guttural groan at the end when he spills inside her, his breath hot on her damp neck.

He pulls back, a piece of his hair falling on his sweaty forehead.

“Maybe a shower first,” he breathes. “Shower _and_ a nap _and_ then early breakfast.”

They laugh and sigh together, spent.

**Author's Note:**

> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com)


End file.
